


Team Boromir

by ConcentratedMatter



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-17 01:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13648371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConcentratedMatter/pseuds/ConcentratedMatter
Summary: A missing scene following the fight in Alfield.Molly and Nott share a drink and some thoughts.





	Team Boromir

**Author's Note:**

> Based on another Tumblr prompt: _Molly doing a card reading for Nott._  
>  I based some of Molly's cards on both traditional tarot cards and the D&D deck of many things, which included some really appropriate cards I couldn't resist using.

He did not quite know what time it was. It was just  _late_. The pervasive stench of burned buildings still lingered in the air, but with the slow passage of time and the depletion of his drink, Mollymauk had gradually become accustomed to it. After the experiences of this hectic day, and with clearly no other patrons being expected to show their faces, the dwarven innkeeper had soon decided to call it a night. Before taking his leave he had set the bottle of greenish liquid up on the counter, as both as a thank you and a token of trust towards Mollymauk. Exchanging nods with him as he left, there was a clear but unspoken agreement that if the tiefling required any more drink he would leave a fair price for the dwarf in the morning. **  
**

 

And now all was quiet except for the small, slowly sputtering fire in the hearth of the common room, which was also the only source of light. Long shadows danced across the stone walls of the tavern. Sunk deep into his chair, feet propped up on the table, Mollymauk held his full glass close to his face to study its green contents; a few small bubbles floated to the surface, but the liquid itself looked thick and heavy, like syrup. He took another sip.

 

As the taste of alcohol burned its way along his insides, he watched the dying flames dance across from him, flickering across his memory. Flames licking up the sides of buildings. Acrid smoke filling his nostrils as embers flitted across his vision, burning his coat, singeing his hairs. An arrow piercing the darkness, streaking through the smog.

 

A shadow moved in the corner of his vision and he startled upright, turning his head. He let out a small but tense sigh of relief when he recognized the small figure cautiously standing behind one of the red faded chairs close to the hearth.

 

“You gave me a bit of a jump there, Nott.” He said, quickly taking another swig of his drink and smiling nervously. The little goblin girl emerged from behind the chair, her eyes downcast, looking almost equally as on edge as Mollymauk felt.

 

“I didn’t mean to frighten you none.” Nott spoke up, her voice soft but a little high, a bit frayed. She wrung her hands together, looking around. “I was just looking for something, eh…”

 

“To take the edge off?” Mollymauk finished her thought. He motioned towards the big chair next to him, inviting her to take a seat. Nott briefly hesitated, perhaps trying to gauge his intentions, but then climbed into the chair, folding her small gangly legs underneath her. In response to her acceptance of his invitation, Mollymauk swung his feet from the table and stood up swiftly. He walked over towards the bar and swiped the bottle off the counter. He also grabbed a second glass - this one slightly larger than his - and filled it to the top with the heavy green liquor.

 

Nott carefully watched him as he returned to the table. Mollymauk met her gaze as he plunked the glass down in front of her, accidentally spilling some of its contents. She didn’t seem to mind it however, grabbing the glass with both of her hands and dragging it towards her. She sniffed the liquid. Sitting back down, Mollymauk held up his own glass in salute.

 

“Cheers!” He took another swig. Nott followed his example. She seemed to consider the taste for a brief moment, looking thoughtful, but soon took another little sip, apparently satisfied. They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, both alone with their own thoughts.

 

Mollymauk tore his eyes away from the hearth after a little while, his gaze settling on his goblin companion. She was looking into her drink, a forlorn expression on her face. He could still see some faded black smudges on her cheeks; ash or charcoal. She had left her mask in their room, but had apparently thought it wise to put her hood up before sneaking downstairs. The material was a little frayed and dirty, and there was a clear burn along the left edge, almost scorched entirely through the fabric. There was a freshly torn hole as well, towards the back of the hood. It wasn’t that big, but… perhaps the size of an arrow? Mollymauk noticed the faded line on her neck, from the front of her jaw to below her left ear, where such a projectile seemed to have torn through her flesh. It was barely more than a scar now, Jester’s magic having knitted the wound back together.

He closed his eyes, certain images replaying in the seclusion of his mind. He hadn’t had sight on Nott for most of the battle, but it seemed she had had some of the worst of it. He clenched his hands around his glass. To be fair, they had almost all had some of the worst of it. It seemed a small miracle they were even sitting in this inn right now, sharing drinks.

 

When he opened his eyes, he could see Nott staring at his hands. His death grip on the glass made his knuckles turn white. He released his grasp and leaned back, shoving his hands in the pockets of his coat. Nott averted her gaze and looked at the fire, still quiet. Mollymauk’s fingers soon found the cards stored away in his pocket. He absentmindedly started playing with the deck, his hands itching to fidget with anything that could keep his mind off some of his darker thoughts. But as he continued studying the girl next to him, her scrapes, bruises and faded burns, he simply could no longer help himself:

 

“Why did you run after them so blindly?” Mollymauk blurted out, surprised at the force of his tone. As if it had been a question waiting to burst forth, burning on his lips this entire time. The entire evening, perhaps. He saw Nott shrink into herself a little, holding her glass close, eyes darting back at him. For a moment he thought she might simply scamper away, but as she straightened her back it soon became clear she would do no such thing.

 

“You’ve already asked that question.” Nott mumbled, taking another sip of her drink. Mollymauk hadn’t intended to sound accusatory, but her answers - now and back on the battlefield, amidst the ruins of the burned buildings - had done nothing to help clear the muddled waters of his mind. He was trying to understand.

 

“It’s dangerous.” Mollymauk sighed. Removing his hands from his pockets, he leaned forward onto the table. He stared at the deck of cards which he had pulled out as well. He wiped his face absentmindedly, a little shaky, and started rifling through the cards. “You can’t just… pull stunts like that.”  

 

He let a card dance between his thumb and forefinger. It showed a chariot. He thought about W.C. and the cart that was now theirs. He thought about the Carnival of Curiosities. About Yasha. About Toya, and Kylre. The fight with the undead guards at the tents. The fight on the island. Last night.

 

What a hectic few days it had been.

 

Nott watched him shuffle the cards for a bit. She didn’t seem to find any adequate reply to his rebuke, but after a while she looked up at him in earnest.

 

“Why did  _you_  run?” Her voice was soft, but unwavering. Her eyes were sharp, unblinking, looking out from under her hood.

 

Mollymauk stopped shuffling, frowning. It was not a question he had been expecting. “Hm.”

 

Why  _had_  he run so recklessly into danger? He conjured up the scene in his mind; the sights, the sounds, the smells. He remembered the gnoll in front of him felled by a crossbow bolt fired by one the guards. As the creature fell gurgling, he could see Beau across the street downing one of the beasts with a fell swoop of her staff, and then hitting another as it ran away into a cloud of ash and embers. That movement had been what had drawn his eye towards the burning side-street. Towards the shadow of their tall leader disappearing in the smoke. Looking down at the corpse of the creature in front of him, the bolt still protruding from its eye, he had felt frustrated.

He had vaulted over the wall separating him from the action. Holding the bleeding wound where the gnoll’s spear had stabbed him, he had noticed the small figure leaping from the building in front, stumbling on the ground before running off in pursuit of the shadows. He had heard Fjord shout something then, but ignoring the words he had taken off as well. Determination had pumped his lungs, making him forgot his wounds. Someone had to keep an eye on that cart.

 

Right?  

 

“I… don’t know.” Mollymauk felt himself deflate. Nott was watching him carefully, and he shuffled the cards back into the deck before placing it out in a pile in front of him. He grabbed the bottle and refilled his glass.

 

“Yeah…” Nott replied, sipping her drink, and Mollymauk understood in that moment that they both knew neither of them had any answers.

 

They sat in silence. The fireplace crackled and popped, making shadows dance in the corners of the room.

 

Nott leaned over, tapping one of her long fingernails against the pile of cards. “So does that stuff tell you about your future? Your past? Or what?” She was clearly trying to change the subject, and Mollymauk somewhat appreciated her for it.

 

“Hm, neither. It’s supposed to tell you about yourself.” He replied, putting his glass down. He took the deck of cards back into his hands, looking at their faded sleeves. He flipped the first one over. It was the chariot again.

 

He frowned.

 

“Sure, but, do you actually believe it has meaning?” Nott asked, somewhat suspicious but carefully wording her question so as to not offend. She had seen him do a reading for Jester back at the inn they met at, he remembered. And he had seen them sell a ‘magic’ bowl to the same woman at that same inn. For a brief moment their eyes met, a certain type of  _professional_  understanding passing between them.

 

“It means as much as you want it to mean.” Mollymauk said, a smile forming on his face. He tried to put a certain mysteriousness in his voice, slipping easily into his normal routine. He let the cards dance between his fingers, shuffling them rapidly, and then fanned them out in front of Nott with single flourish. Nott followed his movements like a hawk. She looked impressed at his card trickery, but there was a little twinkle in her eyes. He nodded at her encouragingly, and she grinned.

 

“Or as much as  _you_  make it mean?” She asked, leaning forward, her goblin height barely letting her reach across the table. She tapped the card closest to Molly’s right hand. It was the one Molly had ensured came out on top while he had been shuffling the cards.

 

“Hm,” Molly said, approvingly. Nott had a sharp eye. He turned the card, showing _the Rogue_. Nott placed both of her hands on the table and lifted herself up on her knees to get a better look. She cocked her head, a thoughtful look on her face.

 

“That’s fair.” She said, but briefly studied his expression in search for any hidden meanings. Mollymauk just smiled slyly, reordering the deck. He shuffled them thoroughly and then fanned the cards out again, this time leaving the order up to fate. He gestured for her to pick a card. Nott frowned.

 

“If I remember right, you picked the cards last time.” She said, hesitantly. “For Jester, I mean.” Mollymauk leaned back, crossing his arms.

 

“Well. There’s more than one way to tell a fortune.” He stroked his chin, weighing his words. “Of course, I had only just met you people back then. And Jester is a… very  _trusting_  person.”

 

Nott slowly nodded, considering what he was saying. Mollymauk regarded her for a moment, trying to decide how much to give away. He cleared his throat.

 

“The thing is, in order to know what people want to hear, you have to also learn what people do _not_  want to hear. Try to give people honest fortune readings for long enough and you’ll discover the difference real fast.”  He nodded towards the cards, deciding he wasn’t going to deceive her. “Do you have a particular question in mind?”

 

Nott’s face scrunched up in concentration, clearly having a hard time coming up with a proper query. She licked her lips and took another sip of her drink, leaving her glass empty. She looked at Mollymauk, lost in thought. He patiently waited, leaning his chair back, balancing it on two legs. Finally she spoke up, her voice a little high but careful:

 

“Why… Why did we _both_ go out there?”

 

Mollymauk froze. Nott looked up at him, uncertainty in her eyes, perhaps wondering if she had asked the wrong question. It was not the question he had expected. _Yet_ … it was the only fitting one, he had to admit. He smiled wryly at her and sat up, slapping his hand against the table. “A double fortune then! For the both of us.”

 

Nott visibly relaxed at his response, and Mollymauk gestured once again towards the cards. “Choose four.”

 

The goblin considered the cards for a moment, and then leaned over and tapped one a little left of the middle. Mollymauk quickly fished it out from among the rest and turned it over, placing it in front of the other cards, towards Nott.

 

The card displayed several people. A woman in a simple white dress in the middle, flanked on either side by two men in similar white robes. All were holding hands, staring silently ahead, their wrists loosely bound by silver thread.

 

“The fates.” Mollymauk said, studying the card. The words were written upside down from him; the card was the right side up for Nott. “It’s a destiny intertwined. One part of a whole; cause and effect.”

 

“Oh… is that good?” Nott asked cautiously, examining the card for herself. Mollymauk shrugged.

 

“I think it just  _is_.” He looked at the card again, this time considering the original question Nott had asked.

 

“Perhaps it is telling us we were fighting for our new friends, hm?” He thought about Nott sprinting ahead into the smoke, and him following behind. He frowned. Had he sprinted into danger out of concern for her? He looked back at the table, and quickly put up a smile when he saw Nott studying him.

“Doesn’t that sound nice?”

 

Nott considered his answer, tilting her head. “Well… I guess.” She bit her lip, seemingly thinking back at that moment, only a few hours before. “We did find some really _good_ new friends. Perhaps they are what we are fighting for…” Nott grinned. “Did you see Beau? She was just-” She made a couple of chopping motions with her arms. “- _wham! Bam!_  …kicking ass!”

 

Mollymauk smiled at that, thinking back to the fight himself. Beau striking down two gnolls in one move, while he had struggled with one. “Yes, yes. Very inspiring. How about you pick the next card?”

 

Nott quickly hovered her hand over the other cards, musing her choices, and then picked the one furthest to the left. Mollymauk flipped it over and laid it next to the previous one.

 

The new card showed a woman hanging upside down from a tree, one of her feet bound to its branches, her hands clasped serenely behind her back. It was turned upside down from Nott’s perspective.

 

“The hanged one.” Mollymauk said, frowning. “It represents martyrdom.” He looked at the first card again. Martyrdom leading from intertwined fates? He considered their meaning. Sacrificing oneself for their friends? It seemed straightforward enough, he supposed, but something about it didn’t quite fit yet.

 

“Like, self-sacrifice?” Nott spoke up, matching his frown.

 

Mollymauk shrugged. “That could fit within the theme.” He answered, looking at both cards together. “But, it could also mean something else depending on the other cards. A meaning is not set until all the cards are on the table.”  _Surrendering. Breaking bad habits._ There were a myriad of possibilities.

 

Nott nodded, and quickly leaned forward again, ready to pick her third card. Her fingers danced across a couple of them, and then she pulled one forward from right in the middle of the deck. Mollymauk took it and swiftly placed it next to the two that were already laid out in front.

 

This card showed a tower being broken in twain as it was being sundered by a great explosion. Two people in brightly coloured clothing were being thrown from the ruins, falling towards their doom down below.

 

_Oh,_ thought Mollymauk.

 

“This one seems a little…  _dark_.” Nott piped up, stating the obvious, her nose almost pressing against the card as she studied it closely.

 

“The tower.” Mollymauk replied, thinking carefully while looking back at the other cards. “A punishment of arrogance.” He grew quiet and Nott looked up, meeting his eyes. They both stared at each other, silently considering the implications.

 

Mollymauk thought back towards the moment he had decided to run ahead of his comrades, head first into danger. That moment he had started vaulting the wall and saw Nott jump from the burning building.  
_No,_  he thought. It was even before that, when he had looked at the corpse of the gnoll at his feet. The crossbow bolt protruding from his eye… And across the way, Beauregard downing two of the creatures in one continuing movement. He remembered the sense of frustration filling him, driving him onward. All his new comrades had been doing well, while he had struggled trying to deal with only one of the threats. And it was one of the  _crownsguard_  that spared him any further injury in that one-on-one fight. He had been so eager to show his skills. To proof his worth. It had clearly blinded him to the dangers.

 

“ _Ah,_ okay,” Said Nott, waking from her own musings at the same time as Mollymauk said; “Of course…” They briefly looked at each other again, both clearly with some type of new understanding.

 

“ _Thank the Gods._ That makes  _way_ more sense.” Nott said, leaning back. “All that self-sacrifice stuff was making me uncomfortable.” Mollymauk laughed nervously himself, somehow a weight lifting off his shoulders. They both smiled.

 

Nott suddenly leaned forward again. “Oh, right, the last card!” She theatrically fluttered her fingers above the deck, delaying the choice on purpose. “Hmmmm…”

 

She finally picked the right most card, turning it towards Mollymauk who took it and flipped it over next to the others.

 

This card showed a woman with a crown of flowers around her head, holding a long staff with a knapsack over her left shoulder. She had little bells on her clothes and seemed to be surrounded by butterflies. Neat handwriting underneath the drawing revealed the name of the card; _the Jester._

 

A second passed. Then they both started laughing.

 

“Good old Jester.” Nott said, grinning and holding up the card to look at it better. Mollymauk shook his head in disbelief.

 

“What better way to finish this fortune than with the one who ended the fight by saving us both.” He replied, smiling.

 

Indeed, what other card could he have expected? Mollymauk looked at the fortune as it was laid out on the table.

_It means as much as you want it to mean._

His own words echoed back to him. The jester was the right side up for Nott. He knew in that way, it signified a free spirit, and new beginnings. He observed the goblin girl as she put the card back down, seemingly satisfied with whatever meaning she herself had attributed to it.

 

“Well, I don’t know Molly.” She said, reaching out to her glass but then noticing it was empty. She seemed to briefly consider going for the bottle again, but then shrugged. “It’s a neat trick, that’s for sure.”

 

Mollymauk gave her a wry grin. “A trick, Nott?  _A trick_?” He stretched out his hands towards the heavens. “I am a mere tool, guided by the higher powers. You dare insult their guidance?” Nott giggled. It was a sound he had not heard her make before, and he unexpectedly found it strangely endearing.

 

He let out a long sigh, his heart somehow a little lighter. His mind no longer preoccupied with dark thoughts. He looked at the small goblin next to him, her singed clothes and her dirty face. He gathered the cards back up and pocketed them. He might not have been motivated by a sense of protectiveness towards Nott, back in that burning side-street when he had followed her into the smoke, but considering all the consequences they had suffered, he sure was glad she was still around.

 

“Time to turn in, I think.” He said, heaving himself upright. “I’m sure tomorrow will bring us some freshly new bullshit.”

 

Nott murmured an agreement and stood up herself, slowly heading towards the stairs. She hesitated when she saw him linger at the table, still stretching his limbs. He nodded towards her. “You go ahead, I’ll be right up.”

 

“If you say so.” Nott answered and then quickly darted up the stairs, somehow able to avoid all the squeaky steps, making no discernible sounds as she opened the door to the second floor corridor. Mollymauk was impressed. Then again, he had realized each of them had their own unique skills.

 

He gathered up both of their glasses and the bottle of liquor, still half full. He walked up to the counter and placed down the glasses and another gold for the dwarven innkeeper. Then, looking out over the rows of other liquor bottles and following some internal deliberation, he put down another 5 gold. He quickly pocketed both the bottle they had been drinking from, and a small, black, curious-looking one that had caught his fancy. He wasn’t exactly sure what was in it, but he was always open to new ‘experiences’. He smiled.

 

And if it was not for him,  _well_ … He was pretty sure Nott would find a way to appreciate it. 


End file.
